


Soothing

by tastewithouttalent



Series: Assistance [4]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Hair Kink, M/M, No Plot/Plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-18 13:20:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1429984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastewithouttalent/pseuds/tastewithouttalent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The braids are tight enough that Shoot's whole head prickles with almost-painful relief as Knuckle works them free, like feeling coming back into a limb gone numb." Knuckle takes Shoot's hair down and they tease each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soothing

“All yours,” Knuckle announces as he comes out of the bathroom in just pajama pants, ruffling his wet hair half-dry with one of the room towels. “The water runs scalding, though, so be careful.”

“Ah.” Shoot looks up from his notes and offers Knuckle a tentative smile and a brief but not unnoticed appreciative once-over. “Thanks.”

Knuckle jerks his chin at Shoot’s ponytail without moving closer. “You gonna take that down?”

Shoot reaches up without letting go of his pen to touch the ends of the strands, as if he has momentarily forgotten their presence. “Probably not. It takes so long to take it out and put it back up, it’s not worth doing every night.”

Knuckle makes a whine of protest and starts to come closer like he’s being lured with the promise of a treat. “But I like it down. And up. And putting it up for you.” He drops the towel around his shoulders before reaching out to echo the movement of Shoot’s own hand with his fingers.

“Sometimes I think you’re just with me for my hair,” Shoot says, low enough that Knuckle could ignore him if he wanted and without looking up. He’s still smiling, though, and when Knuckle growls and half-tackles him down onto the bed he lets the other man take him down without any protest beyond a startled gasp.

“Don’t be an idiot.” Knuckle’s pinning Shoot’s arm in against his waist uncomfortably and his weight is poorly positioned so Shoot’s shoulder and elbow are digging into his chest, but neither of them makes any effort to move. “Idiot.” He shifts his balance to work one hand free and bring it back up to the taller man’s hair again. “Just lemme do it for you. It’ll be easier that way, right?”

“I was working,” Shoot says. Knuckle’s fingers are tugging at the tie against the fall of his hair, and he doesn’t try to sit up or push him away as it comes free.

“And now you’re not.” Knuckle finally sits up, reaches out to curl his fingers around Shoot’s waist and pull the taller man in against him while he starts to untangle his braided hair. This lasts for approximately thirty seconds before Knuckle growls in gentle protest and pushes at Shoot’s hip with enough force that the other man starts sliding over the sheets before he begins moving of his own accord. “You’re too damn tall, I can’t see what I’m doing. Here, sit on the floor and I’ll be on the bed.”

Shoot doesn’t agree aloud, but he doesn’t protest either, just gets his knees under him so he can slide off the edge of the mattress and fold himself onto the floor. It’s less comfortable than the bed, but Knuckle follows to sit with his legs against Shoot’s narrower shoulders, and when he starts gently pulling the braids free it’s more than soothing enough to make up for the discomfort of the floor. It’s nice to not have anyone to see his face, too; Shoot tips his chin down and shuts his eyes, lets himself relax into the gentle touch against his scalp without worrying about what expression he’s making. The braids are tight enough that his whole head prickles with almost-painful relief as Knuckle works them free, like feeling coming back into a limb gone numb, and Shoot breathes deep and slow and lets the tingle spread out over his head as each row comes loose to drape more weight across his shoulders.

“Seems like there’s so much more of it, like this,” Knuckle comments without pausing in the motion of his hands.

Shoot answers without opening his eyes. “It’s the crimping from the braids.”

“It’s like a cloud.” Knuckle’s hands cease their pulling to press gently against the loose fall, smoothing it flat before the removal of the pressure lets it fluff back up around Shoot’s face.

“It looks ridiculous. Usually I don’t take it down until just before I shower. The water takes the pattern out of it pretty fast.”

“I like it.” Knuckle is over halfway, now; most of Shoot’s scalp is aching dully in relief as the other’s fingers start to unwind the pattern over his ear.

“You like everything,” Shoot says steadily. It’s easy to talk with his eyes shut, with the weird pain-pleasure of his undone hair flickering through his thoughts, with the touch of Knuckle’s hands against his hair instead of his own one-handed tugging.

“I balance you.” Knuckle laughs, the bright burst of sound as loud as Morel’s booming amusement but higher and quicker. He tugs deliberately on one of the few remaining plaits and Shoot smiles without looks up. “Seeing as you hate everything.”

“I don’t,” Shoot protests, but he knows he’s being teased and his smile remains.

“Scared of everything, then. That accurate enough for you?”

“I like you,” he offers by way of a response. “I’m not scared of you.”

Knuckle’s fingers pause for a moment; his leg shifts, maybe just to move his weight, but his knee presses in hard against Shoot’s arm for a moment, and Shoot leans into the contact.

“You should be,” Knuckle says, although he still sounds like he’s on the verge of laughter. “I’m a very intimidating guy, you know.”

“Yeah, sure you are.” Shoot is grinning, now, although he’s tipped his head farther down to hide the expression. “You terrify everyone. Especially children and animals.”

“I should never have let you get to know me,” Knuckle bemoans. He works the last fold of hair free, reaches up to catch his fingers into the front of Shoot’s hair, and pulls back to drag his hands through the loose fall of it. Sensation bursts over Shoot’s scalp and he shudders, curling in forward in a silent plea for more, and Knuckle reaches out to repeat the motion. “You discovered my secret weaknesses and now you’ll never respect me again.”

“Very secret,” Shoot remarks, though his voice is a little distant with distraction. He opens his eyes to glance sideways at the other man. “You are amazing at maintaining your facade.”

“Are you being sarcastic with me?” Knuckle asks, leaning in sideways to peer at Shoot’s face. “You  _are_. You’re teasing me.”

Shoot shakes his head, though he thinks the sparkle in his eyes might be undermining his claim as much as the way he’s biting his lip. “I’m not teasing you. At all.”

Knuckle shoves his shoulder, hard enough that Shoot goes over sideways, and the shock of the push is enough to start his laughter. Luckily that sets Knuckle off too from his perch on the edge of the bed.

“I hate you,” he says without rancor.

“Yes, I know.” Shoot blinks up at Knuckle from the floor, and after a moment the other Hunter offers his hand to pull him back upright. “You’re only with me for my hair, after all.”

“Exactly.” Shoot gets to his feet and Knuckle leans back, bracing himself against the mattress with his arms locked. When he smiles his dark eyes go warm with affection and his mouth curves so Shoot can’t make himself look away.

Knuckle nods towards the bathroom. “Hurry up and shower. The bed’s cold without you.”

Shoot can’t stop his responsive grin or his flush of embarrassed pleasure. “I will.”

By the time he comes back, Knuckle’s half-asleep already. Shoot fits himself into bed carefully enough that the other man doesn’t do more than blink at him and smile as they sort out the pattern of their limbs together, and by the time his hair is dry they’re both sound asleep.


End file.
